Ranging the lands untraveled,
Building our land-marks of stone.
Vaguely grasping at glory,
Gazing beyond our ken
Mutely the ages' story
Nearing on plain and fen.

See, how the Lost Fire smolders,
We are one with the eons' must.
Nations have trod on our shoulders,
Trampling us into the dust.

We, the first of the races,
Linking the Old and the New―
Look, where the sea-cloud spaces
Mingle with ocean-blue.

So we have mingled with ages,
And the world-wind our ashes stirs,
Vanished ore we from Time's pages,
Our Memory? Wind in the firs.
Stonehenge of long-gone glory,
Sombre and lone in the night,
Murmur the age-old story
How we kindled the first of the light.

Speak, night-winds, of man's creation,
Whisper o'er crag and fen,
The tale of the first great nation,
The last of the Stone Age men.